


Designs on My Heart

by StBridget



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-01 21:42:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15782679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StBridget/pseuds/StBridget
Summary: Mac wants something to always remind him of him and Jack.  Matching tattoos seems like the perfect answer.





	Designs on My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> MacGyver is property of CBS and its creators.

Sated and limp, Mac snuggled against Jack’s firm chest. The older man was pressed up against his lover’s back, strong arm thrown across Mac, spooning him. Idly, Mac traced the Delta Force symbol tattooed on Jack’s arm up near the shoulder, all but invisible when Jack was wearing a shirt. Mac loved that tattoo. It embodied everything Jack was, all wrapped up in one indelible mark. Mac loved even more that he was one of the few people that got to see it on a regular basis, just like he was one of the few people that got to see Jack’s soul.

Mac wondered what he’d get if he had a tattoo. It would have to be something uniquely him, but it would have to represent Jack, too. The other man was just as much a part of Mac as his genius or his blond hair. But it didn’t seem right for Mac to have a symbol of Jack if Jack didn’t have one of Mac. But maybe they could. . .

“Let’s get matching tattoos,” Mac said aloud.

Jack clearly thought Mac was kidding. “What, like hearts with Mac+Jack on our arms?”

“No,” Mac replied, perfectly serious. “Something more elaborate. Something that’s meaningful, something that means _us_.”

Jack’s interest was piqued. “Got anything in mind?”

“Not really,” Mac said, “but I’ll think of something.”

“You do that,” Jack said, “then we’ll get them.”

“Are you sure?” Mac asked. This wasn’t a light undertaking. Mac didn’t want Jack to agree just to please him.

“Am I sure about having something of you, of us, on me permanently?” Jack echoed. “Hell, yes. I’d love to tell the world you’re mine and I’m yours. Sounds perfect.”

“Okay, then,” Mac said, decisively. “I’ll let you know when I have something.”

Jack leaned over to give Mac a kiss. “Looking forward to it.”

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Coming up with a design was harder than Mac thought. He worked with Bozer to brainstorm some rough ideas, but Mac knew he’d probably have to go to a professional to get the design fleshed out, so to speak. Bozer was great with masks, but his sketching skills were basic, just enough to get by. It didn’t help that Mac had no idea what he wanted. He rejected the Mac+Jack heart right off the bat as too generic, but he couldn’t come up with an alternative. Bozer threw out idea after idea only to have it shot down: An American flag (not personal enough), a paperclip (represented Mac just fine, but not Jack), a bomb (too morbid), and most especially Bozer’s desperate suggestion of a pyramid for Cairo (“You’ve got to be kidding me, Boze. Just no.”).

“You gotta give me something to work with, Mac,” Bozer begged.

Mac threw up his hands in frustration. “I don’t know! I’ll know it when I see it!”

“Mac, you’ve rejected a dozen designs already,” Bozer pointed out. “Make up your mind.”

“I can’t! None of them are right!”

Bozer sighed. “Okay, fine, let’s try this again. What do you think of when you think of Jack?”

“This isn’t about Jack,” Mac said. “It’s about _us_.”

“Okay, so what do you think of when you think of the two of you?” Bozer asked, patiently.

Mac started listing things. “Love, passion, affection. . .”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Bozer said, holding up a hand to stop Mac mid-list. “Unless you want to go back to the Mac+Jack heart, I can’t draw any of those.”

“I told you I don’t want that stupid heart!” Mac snapped.

“I know,” Bozer said, placatingly. “That’s why you’ve got to give me something else. What else do you have? Something I can draw.”

“Umm. . .” Mac said, momentarily stumped.

“Anything,” Bozer said. “Just start throwing words out. As long as they aren’t emotions, maybe there’s something I can use.”

“Okay.” Mac thought a moment. “LA, army, DXS, Phoenix. . .”

“That’s it!” Bozer said. “Phoenix! I can draw a phoenix to represent the two of you.”

Mac grinned. “Perfect. Bozer, you’re a genius.”

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Once Bozer had an outline sketched, Mac started searching for a tattoo artist to finalize the design. Besides Jack, who’d gotten his tattoo long, long ago in a galaxy far, far away (okay, maybe it was time to lay off the Star Wars marathons), Mac didn’t really know anybody with a tattoo. There were plenty of guys in Phoenix, on the tac teams especially, who had tattoos, but Mac didn’t know any of them well enough to ask. So, he did what any self-respecting Gen Z-er would do: he fired up Yelp!.

Mac was immediately overwhelmed. “Best Tattoo Shops in LA” returned over 1,000 results. That would never do. By fiddling around with his search parameters and sorting by the most reviewed, Mac was able to narrow it down to about 10 shops rated 4.5-5 stars with over 200 reviews each (which he figured was a good number to base a recommendation on), but he still had no idea how to pick which one; the ratings may be close to 5 stars, but even then, some reviews were less glowing than others and all focused on different things: artist, cleanliness, location, price, and so many other factors Mac felt like his head was about to explode. Not knowing what else to do, Mac went to Jack.

“So, I need help picking a tattoo artist,” Mac told Jack without preamble.

“So, you finally have a design?” Jack asked, eagerly., his eyes lighting up. “Let me see.”

Mac held Bozer’s sketch close to his chest, refusing to let Jack see it. “It’s not ready yet. That’s why I want to talk to an artist—I need to get the details right.”

“What makes you think I can help?” Jack asked. “You know I didn’t get my tattoo here.”

“I was hoping maybe you knew someone who could make a recommendation,” Mac said.

“Why don’t you ask around Phoenix?” Jack suggested. “I know a couple of guys on my tac team that just got tattoos. Maybe they could help.”

“Could you ask them?” Mac asked, hopefully. “I don’t really know them that well.”

“Sure,” Jack said.

“Thank you!” Mac said, sincerely. He threw his arms around Jack and gave him a big kiss. “You’re the best.”

“I know,” Jack smirked.

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Fortunately, one of Jack’s buddies was able to recommend a place (though not one on Mac’s list—he was beginning to realize there were a staggering number of tattoo parlors in the greater LA area, not all of them listed on Yelp!). Mac made an appointment to talk to an artist named Juno.

Mac was impressed the moment he went into the shop. It was spacious and well lit, divided into stations. He noticed a private room in the back for more. . .personal. . .tattoos. A counter up front was staffed by a perky woman who—naturally—had several colorful tattoos of flowers on her arms. Mac wondered if Juno had done them. Probably not, but they were still cool. Colorful designs adorned the walls, and the artists’ portfolios lay on a table in the small waiting area. Mac flipped through the one labeled “Juno”. He was pleased with what he saw. He’d seen Juno’s portfolio on line, but this included some more detailed pieces that impressed Mac.

Mac didn’t have to wait long until a heavyset Asian with intricate tattoos adorning both arms and creeping up his neck came out. The man stuck out his hand. “Hi, I’m Juno.”

Mac took the offered hand. Juno’s grip was firm, but not overly so. “Mac.”

“Nice to meet you.” Juno immediately switched to professional mode. “I understand you want a tattoo.”

“Yes,” Mac said. “My partner and I want matching ones.”

“Got anything in mind?”

Mac held out Bozer’s sketch. “This is a rough idea. It needs work, though.”

Juno took the design and studied it. “I can work with this.” He motioned to a table in the waiting area. “Have a seat, and let’s talk.”

Mac chatted with Juno for almost an hour while the artist took notes and made sketches. Finally, Mac left with a promise that Juno would email him the design when it was finished.

Mac waited eagerly for the email. It took almost a week, but at last a message from Juno landed in his inbox. Mac clicked on it and was awed. The design was fantastic. A phoenix rose from a fiery inferno, clutching something in its claws—a paperclip in one picture, a gun in the other. Mac grinned. They’d talked about having the bird hold something representing each of them, but Mac wasn’t sure what Juno would come up with. This was perfect.

Excited, Mac showed the design to Jack.

“Wow, this is awesome!” Jack said. “It’s pretty detailed, though.”

Mac wasn’t sure why this was a problem. “It’s supposed to be. Why? What’s wrong with that.?

“It’s just it’s going to hurt like hell, even on our arms,” Jack explained.

“I was thinking we’d get it on our chests, over our hearts,” Mac said.

“That’s going to hurt even more,” Jack said.

“What’s the matter? Afraid you can’t stand the pain?” Mac teased.

“Me? Nah,” Jack scoffed. “I can withstand torture. I can handle a little tattoo.” His voice grew more serious. “I’m worried about you, kid.”

Mac brushed off his concern. “Don’t worry about me. I can take it.”

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Two days later, seated in Juno’s chair, Mac wasn’t so sure. He’d been there an hour, and Juno was just finishing the outline. The fill would take another couple of hours at least. Mac tried hard not to fidget, knowing that could seriously throw off the design. It was difficult, though. The needle dug into his flesh, a continuous line of pain, not like the quick, sudden flare of a punch or a kick. Not only did it hurt, it was annoying. Fortunately, Juno lifted the needle every few seconds, giving Mac just enough relief for Juno to keep going.

Juno finished the last line. “There. Take a look. Then, let’s take a break. I need a smoke.”

Mac gave a sigh of relief. A break sounded wonderful. He looked in the mirror. Even without color, it was magnificent. “Perfect,” he said.

“Sure is,” Jack agreed from where he was sitting, waiting for his turn. “You doing okay, kid?”

“Fine,” Mac replied. He was, generally. His chest throbbed, but it was tempered by the excitement Mac felt at seeing how the tattoo was turning out. Just then, Juno came back. “Let’s get this over with.”

The fill wasn’t as bad because Juno was using a larger needle. It still hurt, though, and Mac was glad when it was finally over with. It was worth it; the design glowed on his chest, fiery reds, yellows, and oranges chasing each other through the flames and across the phoenix’s feathers. It was better than Mac had imagined. Now, he had something of him and Jack, right over his heart, permanently.

Next, it was Jack’s turn. The soldier whined almost the whole time, but Mac noticed he held perfectly still, shoulders and back relaxed. Jack was certainly dealing with it better than Mac had, but that was Jack for you. He may complain, loudly and at length, about a paper cut, but he had one of the highest pain thresholds Mac had seen. For him, this was probably nothing.

At last. Juno put down the needle for the final time. “All done.”

“Already?” Jack said. “I could go for hours yet.” Still, Mac noticed he looked relieved. Maybe he hadn’t taken it as well as Mac thought.

“Take a look and see what you think.” Juno said.

Mac and Jack stood side by side in front of the mirror. Except for the gun and the paperclip, the designs were identical, even down to the precise placement. Mac knew he couldn’t do nearly as well. “They look great.”

“I’ll say,” Jack enthused. “This was a great idea, Mac.”

“Definitely. This is better than that stupid heart,” Mac said.

“So much better,” Jack agreed.

So much better, indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> Juno is actually my tattoo artist. Couldn't resist. :)


End file.
